VERDUN.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 163, 7 April 1916, Page 4 (Supplement)

VERDUN.

By JAC iv VINCENT. All silent and grim the fortress lay, Stil holding the German Hordes at bay, While, sheltered behind his scowling guns, Cowers the Chief of the Howling Huns. THE REPULSE. War weary the men, and hot the guns, Hot is the blood that so freely runs, And hot is the hate that trains each gun As tears for your heroes slain, Verdun. In masses the frenzied foemen rush, Straining the Lillies of France to crush; Pouring their legions, wave on wave. Equipped with all that grim Science - gave. To swell the horrors of gruesome War, And batten, like wolves on human gore, Their minds on debauch and riot run, When they stem the breach of Fort Verdun. In bloody repulse their leaders halt, With shatter'd ranks, and their plans at fault; As vainly their cunning brains they rack — The nut's too liF.ru for their teeth to crack. Staggering back from that deadly thrust, Launched by Venom and bestial Lust, Intrepid and cool the sons of France Shivered the point of the Kaiser's lance.

Hurled back, his cohorts all tried and brave, And bled, the honour of France to save, And died for valour of France displayed, To a cheering world and a foe dismayed. Now, mark ye, Germany's sacl Fraulines, What War to a ghastly finish means. Xow mourn, poor Austrian Chatilanes, Your mar.g'eu kin on the frozen plains. Brave women of France with Spartan hearts, Repressing each furtive tear that starts For over, husband, father or son, Lost in the roar of a battle won. Nurse not your grief with a soul forlorn, The Eagles of France, though battle torn, Still proudly soar o'er her gallant sons, Mocking the rage of the baffled Huns. Xow honour the brave at Fort Ver-

dun, For spiking the Kaiser's spoutinggun, Whose valour amidst the battle wrack, Made "flying corps" of a "massed attack."